"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
you have a beautiful account btw
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
i really havent
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
Thank you, Jack
send link
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
the site i am dreaming
currently